


Holiday State of Affairs

by Misbehaving



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-09-27 22:49:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17170922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misbehaving/pseuds/Misbehaving
Summary: The changing relationship between Will & MacKenzie, 2010-13, as seen through the window of Christmas.





	1. Wading Through the Mud

**Friday, December 24, 2010**

The newsroom was dark by the time Will changed his clothes after anchoring both his show and Eliot Hirsch’s so that Eliot could be home with his young family on Christmas Eve.  It was MacKenzie’s idea.  More accurately, she had volunteered both of them for the task. 

The thought of MacKenzie instinctively made him look in the direction of her office.  He was surprised to find her light still on.  He assumed that she, like the rest of the team, had fled the building immediately following the broadcast.

He peeked into her office.  She was sitting at her desk with her reading glasses on, engrossed in some magazine article.  “Hey… why are you still here?” he asked.

She looked up at him and smiled.  “I’m just finishing a little project I started earlier.”

“You don’t have a date?  It is Christmas Eve.”  He assumed that she was still seeing Wade.  But he couldn’t bring himself to ask about him by name.

“Nope… not tonight,” she said definitively.  “Who is your date for the evening?”

“Not a soul,” he replied, taking a seat across from her.

“You are still spending a few days with your brother and his family this coming week, aren’t you?”

His brother lived in San Diego.  Mac hated the idea of him being alone over the holidays. “I leave tomorrow afternoon,” he assured her.  “Mac, why didn’t you go home for Christmas?  That’s a big deal in your family.”

She shrugged.  “Work. And I wanted to experience a New York Christmas.”

“Alone?” he asked. 

“Tiffany and her family are coming into town on the 26th.” Tiffany was the third child—and third girl—in the McHale family, and eight years older than MacKenzie. Will met her when he spent the 2006 holidays with the entire McHale clan in England.

“That will be fun.  What are you doing tonight?” he asked her.

“Going to Midnight Mass at St. Patrick’s.”  She picked up an item off the floor and handed it to him.  It was a gift.  “This is for you.  I planned to leave it on your desk, but…  Merry Christmas, Will.”

He took the package and immediately felt bad that he had nothing for her.  “Thanks.” 

“Open it now,” she pressed.  “It’s practically Christmas Day.  Besides you know it’s a McHale family tradition to open one gift on Christmas Eve.”

He opened the present and discovered an antique leather-bound copy of Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol” that was artfully crafted and engraved with gold.

“It’s nothing, really.  Just something I saw while perusing old book stores in London with my father in November a year ago while on leave from Afghanistan.  I thought you might like it,” she explained.

“Because I’m Scrooge?” he questioned, half-teasing and half-serious.  

“Only 98 percent of the time,” she joked back.

He looked at the book in his hand again before admitting, “I’ve never read it."

“That explains your deficiencies.”  She paused before continuing in a more earnest voice, “You should.  The language is elegant and beautiful, whimsical and poignant.”

“Thank you,” he said with a smile. “Would you like to go to Mass together?”  He had no plans and he had fond memories of his mother taking them to church on Christmas Eve.

He caught her by surprise.  But she recovered quickly.  “What happened to your ‘we only have a relationship inside the context of work’ rule?” she asked.

“Screw it,” he told her.  “It's Christmas. We’ve known each other a long time.  I think we can be friends _and_ colleagues from time to time, don’t you?  Come on, grab your coat and let’s go.  The cathedral will fill up fast.  We can get dinner somewhere after.  I'm starved and I bet you are, too.”

“Okay,” she agreed with a sweet smile—one that always took his breath away. No matter how hard he tried not to feel that way.


	2. Running in Place

**Saturday, December 24, 2011**

MacKenzie was running through Central Park.  The day (mid-afternoon really) was unseasonably warm. It felt good to get air in her lungs and to stretch her legs before her flight tonight.  Her headphones were in her ears and Christmas music was blaring. She found herself humming along to the songs while mentally reviewing her packing list.  She must have been thoroughly engrossed, and not paying enough attention to the path ahead, because she cut a corner too close and barreled into someone. 

In an instant, large hands encircled her upper arms to steady her. She looked up to mumble an apology before moving on, and quickly realized that it was Will.  The startled look in his eyes mirrored her own.  The deep physical attraction to him that she carried around with her always, and which grew to almost mythical proportions whenever they touched, also kicked in immediately.

She pulled the headphones out of her ears, and desperately hoping she could she project a casual tone rather than a breathless one, she said, “Hi, Will.”  She failed. Her voice was definitely breathy and not because she was running.  "Out of breath" and "breathy" were two different things entirely and her voice had definitely been breathy. 

Her only consolation was that for a moment, before he released her, she felt that he, too, was physically affected by their contact; and it was something tangible she could hold onto when hope was fleeting, as it had been so often the past few months with Will doing whatever he was doing with Nina Howard.

As he stepped back, he said, “In a hurry today?  Running to get all of that last minute Christmas shopping done?”

“Yes, because running through the park saves so much time and I get such better service showing up in stores wearing an old sweatshirt and running pants,” she replied, matching his sarcasm.  “I’ll have you know, Billy, that my Christmas shopping has been done for weeks. Were the professional shoppers you utilize able to complete yours?”

He smiled, and she assessed the situation of their run-in more expansively.  He was dressed in grey slacks, a light blue dress shirt with no tie, and a navy blazer. And he was not alone.  There was a woman with him and three children. The woman could only be his youngest sister, whom she had not met.  Her husband was an Air Force pilot and they had been stationed overseas when she and Will had been together.

Mac smiled and said, “Hello, Rachel, it’s nice to meet you.”

The woman also smiled and said, “You’re MacKenzie, aren’t you? You couldn’t be anyone else.”

“I am.”

Rachel warmly embraced her, despite the sweat that was dripping off her forehead.  “I’m so happy to meet you—finally,” she said. “You are just as I imagined you would be.”

“Oh, I hope not,” Mac protested.  “I’m certainly not dressed for the occasion.”

“She thinks her power comes from her five-inch heels,” Will added in a tease.

“Idiot,” both she and Rachel commented to him at the same time before they laughed.  It felt good to laugh.  The past few months had been difficult. 

Rachel introduced her to the children:  fourteen-year-old, Nathan; eleven-year-old, Miranda; and seven-year-old, Hannah.  Mac asked them about their plans for a New York Christmas.

“We just ate at Tavern on the Green,” Will explained.

“We are going to take a carriage ride around the park and then go to Radio City Music Hall to see the Rockette’s Christmas show,” Hannah piped in. “Nathan doesn’t want to go but mom’s making him.”

“We have an extra ticket,” Rachel volunteered.  “My husband, Andrew, had his leave delayed and he won’t be here until early tomorrow morning.  Would you like to join us?  There’s time for you to shower and change.”

MacKenzie was caught by surprise.  She glanced at Will and saw momentary panic in his eyes before he put on a mask of indifference. 

“That would be lovely,” she told the group sincerely.  “I’ve wanted to see that show.  Unfortunately, though, I am flying out this evening. And as you can tell by my appearance, I have a great deal of work to do before I will be allowed on the plane.”

“Hardly,” Rachel protested.  “I wish that I looked half as good, particularly when exercising.”

Mac smiled and said, “I am so glad we ran into each other. Nathan, if the Jets are playing while you are here, make Uncle Will take you to the game.”

“Are you going to be back for New Year’s?” Will asked her.

She shrugged but also gave him a flirty smile, “I haven’t decided yet.” She turned her attention to the others. “Have a wonderful visit.  And Merry Christmas to all of you.”

She put her headphones back on and continued her run. 


	3. Keeping Christmas Well

**Sunday, December 23, 2012**

_“Some people laughed to see the alteration in him, but he let them laugh, and little heeded them; for he was wise enough to know that nothing ever happened on this globe, for good, at which some people did not have their fill of laughter in the outset; and knowing that such as these would be blind anyway, he thought it quite as well that they should wrinkle up their eyes in grins, as have the malady in less attractive forms….”_

MacKenzie burst into giggles curled up next to Will in their hotel suite.  They were taking advantage of a few days alone in London to shop and relax before going to her family home tomorrow.  “Seriously?” he said to her, looking up from the Dickens book she had given him two years ago for Christmas.  “We’re two paragraphs from the end.”

“I’m sorry.  I couldn’t help myself,” she said, stifling another giggle.

“You actually believed I was Scrooge, didn’t you?  And that’s why you gave me this book,” he protested.

“You truly are an idiot,” she told him as she leaned up and kissed him. “Did you listen to anything I said when I gave it to you?”

He shrugged.  “You found it in London while with your father.”

“Do you remember when?”

“You were on leave from Afghanistan.”

“Yes.  November 12, 2009.”

“Wait…. What?” he paused to think.  “That was when you were recovering from….”

“Yes,” she acknowledged.  “It was also five months before Charlie tracked me down in Washington. So, ask yourself why I was thinking about you at all, let alone buying you a gift, when I didn’t know when or if I would ever see you again.”

“Because you love me,” he answered sincerely.

“Yes… because I saw a beautiful antique edition of my favorite book and I wanted to share it with the man I love, even though I knew the chance of that actually happening was almost zero. We’re all Scrooge, Billy.  We all need to be saved and redeemed.”

As her words sunk in, he smiled, and looked again at the book in his hands.  He did not deserve this woman, who loved him, who challenged him, who never gave up hope, and who time after time defended him and stood with him.  He kissed her on the forehead.  “I never did properly thank you.  I do love it, and you were right about the book.  I would like it to become a holiday tradition for our family that we read it together every year—like we have this year.”

“I’d love that,” she agreed.  “I’ll be right back.”  She scooted off the couch and into the other room.

“What are you doing?” he called after her, setting the book down on the small end table.

But in a moment, she was back, carrying a small, wrapped box.  She handed it to him as she sat on his lap on the sofa.  “Speaking of family... Merry Christmas, Will.”

“MacKenzie, it’s December 23.  Don’t you want to at least wait until tomorrow?”

“Look at your watch…. It’s Christmas Eve.  And you get to open a present.  I want it to be this one.”

He shook his head with a smile.  It was useless to fight her in this. “Okay.” He gave in and tore the wrapping from the box.  Inside was a pair of unusual gold cufflinks.  He pulled the first one out of box.  “A knot, Mac?”

“A lover’s knot, silly.”

He laughed and pulled out the second cufflink.  It was a small circle with Roman numerals engraved across the middle. He looked closer at them:  VI.I.MMXIII.  “6.1.2013?” he asked in puzzlement.

“Yes,” she answered patiently, a coy smile on her lips, as she waited for him to figure it out.

And then he did.  “Finally!” he exclaimed. “June 1st?”

“Are you okay with that date?” she asked.  “It is a Saturday, which would work out best for our friends. And it should give our families enough notice.  I want all of them there with us.”

He set the cufflinks next to the book and hugged her tight.  “I’ll make sure that every one of them are with us.” He released her enough to look at her. “Where?” he asked.  “England?”

She shook her head.  “New York. It’s our home now.  At St.Peter's or St. Francis Xavier's?”

“I’d like that,” he whispered against her lips with a soft kiss that very quickly ignited into something far more consuming and satisfying. 

After a time, MacKenzie broke their contact and told him, “Finish the book, Billy, so we can go in the bedroom and I can unwrap my Christmas Eve gift… you.”

He groaned.  “How about we finish the book tomorrow and instead “keep Christmas well” in our own way tonight? Like, right now.”

“ _God bless Us, Every One!_ ” she exclaimed as she scampered off his lap and grabbed him by the hand. 


	4. The Greatest Gift

**Tuesday, December 24, 2013**

Will half-expected that he would find the President of Atlantis Cable News still asleep.  She slipped out of bed without his notice early this morning (though she was supposed to take the day off).  Finally, he pulled rank as her husband and forced her out of the building at noon. 

That did not, however, stop her from working.  Out of desperation, he confiscated her Blackberry and put it at the back of the top shelf in their closet where she could not reach it.  She protested but he assured her that if a true emergency arose, he would be contacted, too.  So instead she scurried around the apartment.  Doing what, he was not sure.  All she would say was that she wanted everything perfect for Christmas. 

Eventually, he persuaded her to lay down with an offer of a back massage that she could not refuse.  Her back was clearly bothering her--more so than the past month or so.  She had not complained.  But it was obvious in her movements. He kneaded the muscles in her lower back and hips, and within fifteen minutes she slipped into sleep.

He wrapped his arms around her and took a power nap, too, before showering, shaving, and changing into a pair of grey suit pants, and a matching pin stripe shirt.  He called his siblings and made sure all of their gifts had arrived, and then finalized a few details for his and MacKenzie’s first Christmas as husband and wife.

As he walked into the master bedroom, he immediately discovered that MacKenzie was not asleep.  He could hear her puttering around their spacious bathroom.  He continued to step quietly across the floor so that he could watch her if presented with the opportunity.  “You are beautiful,” he told her from the doorway as she was applying a little perfume to her skin.

“Not huge?” she asked him through the bathroom mirror.

She turned around as he shook his head.  He took her in, head to toe, a look of desire in his eyes and an amused, indulgent grin on his face. “Never,” he said, walking towards her.  He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers while he caressed her belly with one hand.  “You forgot your shoes,” he whispered playfully against her mouth.

She hit him on the chest.  “That’s because my back hurts and my feet are still swollen, despite my nap, you big oaf.”

He laughed.

She hit him again.  “It’s really not funny.  I tried ten pairs this evening—ten pairs, Billy—and none of them fit.”

“You’re right.  It’s not funny,” he agreed, swallowing another grin.

“For that, you get to find me a pair of shoes.”

“You’ve got at least 100 pairs in the closet.  And if not, you can wear one of mine.”

“That’s not helping, Will,” she pouted.  “Look at me.  My feet and ankles are the size of an elephant’s… and it’s all your fault.”

“Guilty as charged.  And I’ll gladly take responsibility for any and all discomfort you are experiencing. Well, 98 percent of it anyway.”

She laughed.

“Only three weeks left.  It’s worth it, isn’t it?”

“Of course, it is.”

He took a jewelers’ box out of his pocket.  “Merry Christmas, honey.”

“You don’t want to keep this until tomorrow?”

“This Christmas Eve it’s my turn to surprise you.”  He opened the lid.  Inside was a large pearl encircled by diamonds on a gold chain, with matching earrings.

“Will,” she gasped.

“Do you like them?”

“I love them,” she assured him as she took out the gold hoop earrings she was wearing and set them on the counter.  “Where did you find them?”

“I had them made,” he told her.  “You really like them?”

“Yes.”  She stood on her toes, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, their baby pressed between them.  “Put the necklace on me?” she asked with her arms still around him, his hands now holding her waist.  She was wearing a charcoal grey wool dress that neither accentuated, nor disguised, her pregnancy. The dress had the perfect neckline for it, he was relieved to find.

“Turn around,” he commanded.  He removed the necklace from the box and then handed the box to her. Deftly he fastened the chain around her neck as she moved her hair out of the way; and then she inserted the earrings.

Their eyes again met through the mirror as she instinctively touched the pearl.  “They are beautiful,” she told him, her eyes turning to liquid gold.  He sighed in relief.  She had exacting taste, and he got it right.

“I love you,” he told her, his hands still on her shoulders.  She leaned into him and he ran his hands down her arms.

“We love you more,” she replied, moving his hands to where their baby lay sleeping.  Then she told him, “I have a little something for you, too.”

He followed her into the bedroom where she pulled out a small box from one of her dresser drawers.  He opened it to find a single gold cufflink.  It was identical to the one he was wearing only inscribed with the date of May 3, 2013--their actual wedding date--in Roman numerals, instead of the June date she originally chose.

“I had it made while you were in jail and meant to give it to you as a wedding present.  But with all that happened after, I forgot about it.  I found it at the bottom of the drawer a few weeks ago.”

He smiled.  “Thank you,” he told her.   He quickly replaced the old link with the new one and then said, “Now, you pick me out a tie while I find you a pair of shoes.”

It took a little time, but he found her a pair of shoes and slipped them over her sore feet.  “Ready for dinner, Cinderella?” he asked as he assisted her up from the edge of the bed.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going?”

“You’ll find out in fifteen minutes,” he assured her.  “Patience is a virtue.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Don’t I know it.”

In reality, it took twenty-two minutes.  But he was relieved when she giggled as they stepped out of the car and exclaimed, “Tavern on the Green. I’ve always wanted to eat here at Christmas time.”

“I know it’s kind of cliché. But the food is good… and I owe you one.”

As they ate, they enjoyed the view of the Christmas lights outside and talked about holiday memories.  MacKenzie asked him, “What did you really think when I literally barreled into you two years ago?”

“That I had been struck by a force of nature.  And then, when I discovered it was you, I knew that it was true.”  She smiled at him. Nonetheless, there was an element of skepticism in her eyes.

“I was heartened to find you with family and not with Nina,” she confessed.

“You honestly thought I would be spending Christmas with her?”

She shrugged.  “No… but I was pretty confused at the time, Billy.  I still struggle at times when I think about you with her.  I don’t think that I’ll ever understand it.”

He reached across the table and took her hand.  “I don’t understand it myself.  The best I’ve come up with is that she was a shield.  I don’t have to tell you how screwed up my state of mind was at the time.  But MacKenzie, you are the only woman with whom I have ever shared holidays—shared family—shared myself.  And the only woman I love.  I think you know that’s true.”

“I do.”

“You’ve hardly touched your dinner?” he commented to her.  “I expected you to be starved.  Do you want to try something else?”

“I thought so, too.  Nothing seems appetizing.  Maybe the baby is pressing against my stomach wall.  I can certainly feel little feet walking on my ribs.”

“I’m sorry,” he told her sincerely. “Your back is still hurting, too, isn’t it?”

She nodded.  “It’s this weird kind of pressure—a different kind of pain.”

“Why don’t we go home?  You can soak in the tub and we can watch Mass.  We don’t need to be there in person.  Are you having contractions?”

“Sporadically, I suppose,” she told him.  “But nothing regular.”

By nine o’clock, however, she was having regular contractions; and by ten, they were at the hospital.  While most first-time mothers experienced lengthy labors, their child had other ideas. In no time at all it seemed (though MacKenzie may disagree with this assessment), Dr. James was saying to them, “So, McAvoys... it is now 11:59 p.m.  What day would you like to celebrate a birthday?  Because with one more push this little boy is going to be ready to meet his parents.  Don’t worry, I told you he was good-sized… and he is.”

“Christmas Eve,” they both said at the same time.

Will watched in wonder as with one more push, his first son was born—right at midnight.  He held his breath while the little airway was cleared, and that first newborn wail he had waited so long to hear, rang out.

Because the baby was three weeks early, he was quickly cleaned off, checked out, and wrapped up tight in a blanket before he was placed in MacKenzie’s arms.  She spoke softly to him and he immediately stopped crying.  Will put his arms around both of them as tears ran freely down his cheeks.  The baby was wide awake and looking up at his mother with a studious, intense gaze.

“He looks just like you,” MacKenzie told him.  She, too, had tears in her eyes.

“I hope not,” Will replied.  However, there was no doubting that the fuzz that covered his little head was strawberry blond, and his eyes were a surprising light blue.

XXXXXXXX

Several hours later, Will awoke to the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen:  MacKenzie singing softly to their son, who was nestled high in her arms.  “Hey…” he said as he stretched his stiff muscles and went to her side.

“Merry Christmas,” she told him with a smile that lit up her face.

“How is he?” Will asked, slipping a finger into one of his son’s hands and thrilling as the tiny fingers closed around his own.

“He’s perfect,” MacKenzie replied.

“And, how are you?” He gently kissed her before again meeting her gaze.

“Perfect.”

He sighed in relief and with great gratitude that his prayers of the past six months had been answered. 

She patted the mattress.  “Take off your shoes and join us.”

He nodded.  “Let me get something first.”  He pulled his copy of _A Christmas Carol_ out of his messenger bag, took off his shoes, and joined his family on the bed.

“I’ve been thinking,” he told her, showing her the book.

“That we should use ‘Charles’ instead of ‘Charlie’?”

He nodded.

“Do you want to hold him?”

Will reached out his hands and gently took their sleeping son into his arms.

“I’ve been thinking, too,” MacKenzie said.  She didn’t say anything else until she had his full attention. Then she continued, “How do you feel about the name ‘Christian’?  It seems right that on this day we honor this gift from heaven by naming him after the Savior of us all.”

Will thought about it for a moment and then again nodded in agreement. He put his free arm around her shoulders and felt her gingerly lean against him.  Will smiled at her and then looked again at his little boy--who had now opened his blue eyes, and said, “Happy Birthday, Christian Charles McAvoy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the chapter I originally envisioned. The baby was supposed to be a girl and the chapter written from MacKenzie's point of view. Nonetheless, this is what came out... and in the end, it seemed fitting.


End file.
